Odd Dreams (Child Slashers x Reader) (Abandoned)

A conclusion to that unconcluded nightmare

You backed off, shaking your head, "What are you saying, Micheal?"

The room seemed to began to be filled by a thick, dark fog, trapping Jason in its devilish hues of black. His complaints faded before being silenced completely.

Your breath hastened, your heart nearly shooting from your chest as it drummed against your lungs.

You jolted around, peeking over your shoulders, a silent scream stuck in your throat. You couldn't hear the sniffles of your beloved Bubba, disappeared in the clouds of smoke.

"No." You protested, tears filling your eyes.

Where are you?

You were alone in the room, with only Michael as a company, glowing like a ghost, stepping toward you. He was eerily calm, almost dead in demeanour. You damned yourself, observing the clouds flooding the room like crawling creatures, hunting you down.

You felt a cold hand take yours and you looked down, meeting the lifeless eyes of Michael.

"We are all stuck here, don't you see? Forever."

You tried to ignore him, "Michael, tell me what is going on."

He sank his nails in your skin, making you cry out in sudden pain. The mist of ashes was taking over his glow, cladding him in charcoal. The more he got soaked by the haze, the stronger he got, nicking your flesh with his abnormally edged nails.

Could you really call them nails anymore?

"Michael, what are you doing?"

"Whatever you'll do, you'll never prevent what our doom is! All you do is delay it, but we cannot escape what we are!"

"Michael, please, stop!" You screamed, sensing the warm blood running down your hand, hitting the ground.

"You have to let us go, we are all cursed, (Y/N), you can't do anything!" He gripped harder on you, bending your wrist in an awkward angle. An ominous cracked echoed in the chamber, a keen pain jolting through you, pushing a screech from your ragged throat. Teardrops shed down your cheeks, pathetically sobbing scraps of noises out, resembling syllables,

"I'd never let any of you down, even if it meant I'd have to die while trying."

He groaned, twisting your forearms furthermore. You clenched your eyelids together, crying out, "Michael, stop. It hurts."

No answer came. You peeked, your vision blurred by both your salty tears and the darkness.

A mute gasp writhed in your trachea. Michael was gone before your eyes, but a tall, beefy man took his place. A pale, soulless mask stared back at you. Your brows furrowed, desperately seeking to tear yourself out of his grip.

"What have you done to Michael?"

No response, except for tense breathing.

A wave of dizziness flood upon you, your surrounding collapsing into pure blackness.

You didn't know what your name was anymore for a slice of time, a ringing sound reverberating in your pained skull.

Void entangled your limbs, once again, unable to defend yourself.

Instead, a voice came to your aid, "Baa boo?"

It was shy, almost inaudible such as the rustle of the wind. This whisper seemed to come from nowhere, but, at the same time, close from you. A bit like it was right next to your ear while you weren't inhabiting that body anymore. As if it came from a distant mind, your imagination, impregnated from reality.

"Baa boo..."

You retained your breath. This time, it was more demanding, more startled. Your fingers curled around nothing as you sought the origin of the calls.

"Baa boo."

The voice pulled you away from the meanders of your unconsciousness. Your heart palpitations enhanced, light succeeding the night.

A familiar face looked down on you, Bubba's one.

"Baa boo." He petted your locks.

You were in your bedroom, sweating in your sheets, the morning rays slithering through the curtains.

"Bubba, was I having a nightmare?" He nodded slowly,

Without hesitation, you took the bundle of love in one arm, "Thank you for waking me up, sweetie. Now, go back to sleep. It is still the morning, we have a few hours left"

He cuddled against you as you tried to push yourself up. You winced, your left wrist tingling harshly. You glanced down, noticing that you had slept on your forearm, crushing it. It was red and swollen, probably twisted.

You scoffed, sinking deep in thought about that horrifying dream you just had... No, lived.

I'll surely need to go to the infirmary...

You yawned, patting the back of the hastily asleep boy.

But, for now, I'll stay here, cause it is what matters most.